Home Again. Feh.

Back from the NJ/NY trip. Dagnabit, that was fun.

I wish there were really amazing stories to relate, but it all kind of blends into one big, wonderful, busy weekend. I didn't go to any amazing clubs; I went to dive bars. I didn't run into any famous people. Didn't make out with anyone, though one of my friends did make a rather large announcement that I was available for such activities while we were at a bar in Hoboken.

We went to the Met, ate at some amazing restaurants in Greenwich Village, blah blah blah. Suffice to say that I adore the friends that I was staying with. We talked, laughed hysterically a lot. And I totally reneg my former impressions of Jersey. Two thumbs up. Even the airport wasn't that bad.

Hmm. So in the interest of having a revelation or something even slightly interesting in here, I suppose I'll end this post with the confession that I'm starting to notice guys again, and all over the place at that. Nothing too big, but I'll see a cute smile and my heart will start kicking around my ribcage. It's exciting and scary and sad -- time to start moving on, I suppose. New-found knowledge: being the Dumpee (as opposed to the Dumped), does not necessarily make things easier to walk away from. I still wish that things had worked out between me and the ex, and know that I will always love him, even if our relationship sucked ass. So from now on, I choose to believe that my Mr. Brokemyheart from years ago was tortured by the process of it all, at least for a little while. Yes.